


Of blame and turning points

by Iruniita



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 01 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-28
Updated: 2013-07-28
Packaged: 2017-12-21 15:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/901729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iruniita/pseuds/Iruniita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And that, – that precise moment when he’d seen the lad take off running down the street - that’d been enough. He knows she would have been devastated if she had been there to see the poor kid find his friend’s lifeless body. He can see her, silently crying, in his mind."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of blame and turning points

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, English is not my first language, so there might be major mistakes. If you, by any chance, are reading this and find something that doesn't feel right, please tell me and I'll correct it right away! :)
> 
> This is my take on what was going through Ken's mind during episode 3, so it's kind of spoilerish if you haven't finished watching season 1. Also, I thought of this while listening to "Corpse Roads" by Keaton Henson, the song at the very end of the episode, so I'd recommend listening to it while reading this too.

He knows he’s not going to fool himself about it. He won’t taint her memory by making her an accomplice. No, she would not have any part on this.

She had been good, and she had been back. Heaven had known he needed her more, and her soul had come down from her place among the angels, found her body and emerged from the grave again to the earth, to this life with him. Sure, she had been paler and stared at him with colder eyes, because then she had been burdened with the dark depths of a guilt he could not share – because she had killed, and she would never forgive herself -. Nonetheless, she had never been sweeter, because there she had been standing: with the same broad smile that had left her full of wrinkles and – God - shining so beautifully, as she saw him waiting by the door, that first day when he had brought her home in their old truck. 

That night they had lived a whole life in the dark of their living room just holding their hands together, with him afraid to let her go, listening to her breathing, watching her smile and cry, and just being herself once more. It had been like meeting her for the second time, although it felt like the first all over again. And there had been hope, despite fearing what the future would bring them. And he had finally understood what it was that ‘Grace’ that the church used to preach about, before The Rising. 

“The first day of the rest of our lives, isn’t that what they say?”, she had whispered with trembling voice, and laughed softly at the overused cliché as she let her tired head rest against the crook of his neck, right next to his shoulder, in the place no one else would ever fit so perfectly.

Had she been here now, as he’s picking up the shotgun, she would have found a way to talk him off. She would have excused her killer, kind hearted and clever as she was – as she had always been, since day one -, and he would have listened to her and pleasantly agreed, just like ever, because she was everything to him and he was a bit too much of a coward. But then, had she been there, he wouldn’t have had any reason to do this. She’s not there – the silence in that place screaming and blaming him for her loss over and over -, and it was that man who pulled the trigger taking her away and leaving him bare and helpless for a second time, again, so soon.

And that, – that precise moment when he’d seen the lad take off running down the street - that’d been enough. He knows she would have been devastated if she had been there to see the poor kid find his friend’s lifeless body. He can see her, silently crying, in his mind.

Truth be told, he doesn’t really feel hate for the HVF, which is almost unfair because he’d like to hate them at least more than he hates himself. But then, there’s just sorrow surrounding him and choking him, and it won’t let him go. He feels hollow, but he figures that after having his heart ripped out twice, there just isn’t any place where he could fit all that rage. Instead, he walks through the door to help that man find the doom he knows deserves for himself –for hiding her as if she weren’t the dearest thing of his life, for condemning those who were like her, for missing the second chance he had been given, for not being able to protect her - , while feeling every breath he takes as if it were filled with needles clinging to his lungs, reminding him that he’s breathing even though she’s not. 

He’s had enough of listening to the quiet sounds of an empty house that wouldn’t feel like a home without her anymore. He’s had enough of sitting down in front of that window, his eyes not leaving the same spot where he had held her in his arms a few days ago, screaming and pleading. The spot where he’d tried to stop the bleeding of a rotting corpse. 

She wouldn’t have ever wanted any of this. He knows this won’t make her happy, wherever she might be right now. But he will do it because he’s selfish where she was not. 

And whatever happens next will never be her fault, just as nothing up till now had been. And she will never be to blame. Not for anything. Not again.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize Ken is a bit out of character here, but I honestly think he loved Maggie more than what he could have hated Bill, and that he blamed himself because, even though he tried to keep the HVF away from her, he couldn't save her. I wanted to reflect that. 
> 
> Thank you if you read this!


End file.
